


Mind Games

by blue_jack



Series: Bad Romance [2]
Category: Mirror!verse, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Mirror Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-02
Updated: 2010-04-02
Packaged: 2017-11-16 00:42:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_jack/pseuds/blue_jack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim likes to play games.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mind Games

“Leonard Horatio McCoy. You have quite the impressive background, Doctor.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Leonard said, staring straight ahead as he stood at attention in front of Kirk’s desk.

“Jim, Doctor. Didn’t I already tell you to call me by my first name?” His voice was mild, but he knew McCoy understood.

Sure enough, he saw McCoy’s lips thin, but all he said was, “I apologize, Jim.”

“Do you?” He stood, a small smile playing over his lips as he moved to stand behind the good doctor. He watched shoulders tense, relax, and tense again as McCoy overrode his instinctive desire to turn, to keep danger away from his exposed back, and the smile widened. “You’re very different today than you were a week ago, Doctor.”

McCoy was going to start trembling soon if his muscles got any tighter. “Permission to speak freely…Jim?”

“Of course, Doctor. Say whatever you want.” It was tempting to reach out and touch him. What would McCoy do Jim placed two fingers on his spine? Would he think Jim had put an Agonizer to his back? Would he scream?

“Last week, I—”

“Yes?” Jim asked, taking one step closer so there was little more than a centimeter separating the two of them. It was as if he could feel the nervous energy McCoy was emitting, prickling across the gap between their two bodies. “Are we going to talk about last week now?”

“You must know that I—”

“Actually, Doctor, I don’t feel like I _must_ do anything.” He breathed against the vulnerable skin of McCoy’s neck. “We’re not in Sickbay right now, and I’m in the mood to play.”

Jim was delighted when McCoy broke attention to face him. McCoy had to be terrified to do something that could earn him a trip to the Agony Booth. Of course, it had been two days since he’d revealed himself to McCoy in Sickbay, two days of thinking about what Jim was going to do to him, of how angry he must be, of how Jim would paint his fury in blood on McCoy’s body.

“Why would you—” He was shaking, eyes filled with fear and confusion. “If I’d known, I would never have—you let me think—”

“What? The truth? I didn’t lie, Leonard.” He enjoyed saying his name, enjoyed letting it roll off his tongue as the casual use of his given name belied the underlying danger of the situation. “I was a cadet. I did have my orders. I did fall. Once. And I did win. What more was there to say?”

“ _What more was there to say_?” Jim had to smile at the look of appalled incredulity on the doctor’s face. McCoy’s face was almost charmingly expressive. “How about, ‘I’ll be your damn captain in one week?’ Or ‘I just kicked the asses of seven men from Security?’ Or even just fucking told me that if I touched you, you would—”

“Really? You would have preferred that? Something along the lines of, don’t touch me, Dr. McCoy, or I’ll break every one of your fingers, one by one, joint by joint?” Jim raised his eyebrows in polite curiosity as McCoy flinched. “Was that what I should have said?” He grabbed McCoy’s right wrist, lifting the clenched fist as the doctor struggled against two contrasting survival instincts: to let the Captain do what he wanted, or to yank away his precious, fragile hand.

Jim lightly traced the bone between the knuckles of McCoy’s index finger, ignoring the strain on his arm as McCoy started unconsciously pulling away. “It doesn’t take much force to break a finger. As I’m sure you’re aware. And if it doesn’t heal properly, you can never regain the same level of dexterity. If the break is bad enough, it can leave you virtually crippled—”

McCoy jerked free, knocking into the desk as he took several stumbling steps away, arms wrapped around his torso, hands safely tucked away.

“No, no,” he panted, eyes wild and dark. “Not my hands. Anything but—”

“Do you see?” Jim asked calmly, standing still. “Threats create such…friction between people. And didn’t you say we were going to be friends, Leonard? Because there were…how did you phrase it? Oh yes. There were _advantages_ to being your friend. Right, Leonard?”

“What do you want from me?” McCoy whispered.

Jim blinked at the unexpected level of despair. Then he sighed and rolled his eyes. “What the hell. Are you broken already? I don’t like broken things, Leonard. I tend to throw them away.” He turned away from McCoy and walked to the sideboard where he kept his alcohol, pouring two glasses of whiskey. He plunked one down on his coffee table before sitting in one of the two armchairs. “Take a seat, Leonard. Have a drink. Let’s talk.”

McCoy didn’t move at first, and Jim didn’t prod him, slouching down and taking the occasional sip from his glass as he waited. By the time McCoy finally made it to his own chair, Jim was almost finished, but the doctor caught up quickly, drinking his whiskey in two large gulps.

“Alright, Leonard. Obviously, the slow windup was too much for you. So let’s take the fast and dirty route, which isn’t half as much fun, but I can deal. I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to bend you over the arm of the chair you’re sitting in, stick my cock in your ass, and I’m going to fuck you until my come is dripping down your legs.” He kept talking over the doctor’s coughing fit. “I’m going to keep doing variations on this theme for the next however many days it takes until I get bored, at which point, you’ll find a new plaything, and so will I. I’m not going to torture you. Not for the blow job anyway. Feel better now?”

“Wh-wh-what? Hell no, I don’t feel better!”

“Well, you should.” Jim tipped his glass at McCoy. “I’m being pretty generous after all.” He didn’t comment on the fact that Leonard was regaining the color in his cheeks and that he was now arguing with Jim instead of cowering in the corner.

“Generous? How is this _generous_?” McCoy slammed his glass down on the chair arm, the effect somewhat ruined by the muffled sound of glass hitting upholstery. He turned his body towards Jim, anger making his accent more noticeable, and Jim had to restrain a satisfied smile.

He’d chosen McCoy after going through the personnel files of everyone on board, studying his picture—the handsome face, the lack of arrogance so common on Fleet members, the barest hint of defiance in his expression—and he’d arranged his trip to the Enterprise deliberately, knowing the majority of the crew would be on shore leave.

The Empress had given him the Enterprise as a reward for saving her life, but like all things in the Empire, the gift had been a double-edged sword. He would be Captain once he graduated the Academy, but in order to graduate, he had to survive first, and his peers had been jealous of his future advancement. The last few months had been interesting to say the least. And as a cadet, he hadn’t been allowed bodyguards. If he hadn’t already had a network of allies and enemies of enemies to draw upon, he wouldn’t have made it. Not that dying had ever really been an option.

So the Enterprise had been the Empress’ gift to him. But McCoy had been his gift to himself.

His instructors had always said he was too curious and impatient for his own good, and he’d known he’d been taking a risk. Without rank to protect him, he’d left himself open for attack, and attack had been a surety. In the end though, he’d been annoyed at how easy it’d been to handle Security. He’d expected more from the crew of the vaunted Enterprise. Surprise was no excuse, and neither was the fact that Jim had never been the typical cadet. When he’d finally made it to Sickbay, he’d been worried that McCoy would be equally as disappointing.

He hadn’t been.

And now Jim was tired of talking. He’d waited long enough to claim his prize.

“It’s generous, because I say it’s generous. And because I’m only going to hurt you a little bit,” he said, winking. “Bend over the chair, Leonard,” he ordered, putting his glass down and standing up.

“What? Damn it, Jim, we were—”

“Now.”

McCoy opened his mouth then closed it, his jaw clenching. He knew what life what like in the Empire. With a few jerky movements, he was standing, his glass on the table. He started pulling at his shirt.

“No, keep your clothes on. I’ve got another meeting in fifteen minutes. We’ve already wasted all this time talking. Just pull down your pants.”

McCoy was the picture of offended dignity, hiding his fear behind bravado and anger as he assumed the position, pants barely below his ass, hands braced on the other chair arm. It made Jim smile.

He stood behind McCoy, just savoring the view for a second. He loved power. He loved what it got him, loved having someone’s life in the palm of his hand. It never got old, no matter how many people he’d wrested control from.

He took the packet of lube out of his pocket, coating his fingers before pushing one into McCoy’s ass, ignoring the resistance, the tightening, the shudder. It was almost a shame McCoy hadn’t fucked him. Jim would have enjoyed the whole experience more knowing the doctor was thinking about it the whole time Jim was inside of him.

“You’re tight,” he said conversationally as he inserted another finger. “How long has it been for you, Leonard?”

“None…of your damn business,” McCoy growled, twitching and trying to move away slightly.

Jim added another finger, because McCoy was too much of a smartass to resist tormenting him a little bit more. McCoy’s gasp and shiver were their own reward, however.

“But it _is_ my business now, Doctor.” As much as he liked saying McCoy’s name, he wasn’t too impressed with the name itself. It was too stodgy, too careful and _old_ and not at all like the man himself. And using his title now that Jim was fingers deep inside of him amused Jim much more. “Because I own you, from the top of your head to the bottoms of your feet and down to your very bones. Just so we’re clear, no one fucks you while you’re mine. I don’t like sloppy seconds.”

McCoy grunted as Jim emphasized his point by rubbing his prostate, the shocked sound that garnered making him press even harder. “I’m sure that’s not much of a problem since no one who takes it on a regular basis can be this tight, but I don’t like being misunderstood. Say, ‘yes, Jim,’ Doctor.”

“Yes, Jim,” he replied, his voice strained as Jim manipulated the tiny spot, the muscle gripping Jim’s fingers finally beginning to loosen.

That was all well and good, but Jim didn’t want him to be _too_ loose. What was the fun in that?

He went back to just two fingers, but he kept rubbing against McCoy’s prostate, appreciating the choked sounds, the way McCoy’s back tensed and shifted, the way he spread his legs as wide as the pants would allow. There was nothing as seductive as passion, and once he got going, McCoy had passion to spare. Unwilling passion, but passion nonetheless. For all the Jim knew McCoy was enjoying himself, he was muffling his voice and keeping as still as he could. It was extremely sexy in a repressed virgin sort of way.

He really had made a good choice.

Jim finally stopped toying with McCoy, pulling his fingers out and using the rest of the lube to slick up his cock while McCoy panted, head resting on the seat cushion as he tried to calm himself down.

He shook his head. McCoy would learn.

Jim groaned as he pushed all the way inside, each jerk and flutter of McCoy’s body magnifying the pleasure. He’d gone for the humiliation this time around, but next time, Jim decided he really needed to see McCoy’s face, see him bite his lip and flush red, trying to hide the fact that he loved being on the end of Jim’s dick. He wanted to see McCoy’s cock, that gorgeous, delicious cock, hard and dripping while Jim used him.

“Like that?” Jim asked, unable to _not_ taunt the doctor, grinning as McCoy froze. He could just imagine the look that must be on his face. Fuck, the man was just too damn appealing.

He didn’t wait for an answer, pulling back and thrusting in hard, making a bet with himself on how long McCoy would hold out as he found a rhythm, pushing in steadily and then driving the last few centimeters in as deep as he could go.

Oh, look, he’d won.

“That’s it,” he said, moving his hands from McCoy’s hips to either side of the doctor’s head, leaning forward so he could whisper in his ear. “You take it so well,” he goaded. “Like you were made for me to fuck you.”

He hissed as McCoy’s whole body clenched tight. Motherfucker.

“Every day, Doctor. I’m going to have you every fucking day, on your knees, on your back, over your desk, bent over with your hands on the ground. Get used to the idea, because there won’t be a single damn day my cock isn’t pounding your ass.”

Jim changed the angle of his strokes until McCoy was shuddering with each thrust, until reluctant moans were forcing themselves past his closed lips, and his hips were rising up to meet Jim. Any minute now…

He smirked when McCoy’s hand let go of the armrest and slid under his body, even moving his own arm out the way to make things easier for him.

“I am going to enjoy owning you,” he panted, excitement making his hips thrust faster. “So much.”

Jim caught McCoy’s wrist just before the hypo would have touched his thigh, and he laughed, grinding the bones together until McCoy let the hypo fall to the ground with a high-pitched gasp as Jim drove into him, harsh, punishing strokes that had McCoy up on his toes, trembling all over.

Fuck. Jim chuckled breathlessly into McCoy’s back, finally letting go of McCoy’s arm as the aftershocks of orgasm began to recede. The best choice ever.

He pulled out, almost dizzy as he took a few steps back. He watched in satisfaction as come dripped down McCoy’s legs, and he sighed, shaking his head to clear it.

“Next time,” he said, as he redid his clothes and watched McCoy stagger to a stand, hastily pulling his pants up, “I’m going to make you clean me off with that damn mouth of yours if you pull a stunt like that again. Not to mention, I’ll shoot you up with whatever’s in the hypospray.”

No matter how diverting the whole incident had been, it was never a good idea to let things like that go unpunished. The wrist was enough for now, red and already slightly swollen, although Jim had been careful not to do any damage that couldn’t be fixed quickly. He didn’t want to incapacitate his CMO after all. It was a light punishment, no more than a slap on the wrist really. But Jim hadn’t been this entertained in a long time, and the orgasm had been spectacular.

He did wonder what was in the hypospray, however.

“Get out of here, Doctor. Same time tomorrow.” Jim winked and ushered McCoy out. He had his next meeting to go to after all, and he was already five minutes late.

\-----

Leonard stumbled into his room, locking the door behind him. Damn him. _Damn_ him!

He undid his pants with his undamaged hand, using his throbbing wrist to hold his shirt up against his chest. It didn’t take long, his ass still sore and open, his body thrumming as climax beat at him in relentless waves, come covering his hand and stomach.

_I own you, from the top of your head to the bottoms of your feet and down to your very bones._

Fuck.


End file.
